Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Singapore and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Oppenheimer Analysis to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Saccharine Trust,
Michelle Simonal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
Malaria!,
Judy Mowatt,
Make Up,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barry Ungar,
Alton Ellis,
Funky Four + One,
The Index,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pet Shop Boys,
R.M.O.,
Livin' Joy,
Liliput,
Swans,
Accadde A,
Brass Construction,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pantytec,
Lalo Schifrin,
Easy Going,
Harmonia,
Blossom Toes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Jandek,
K-Klass,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
F. McDonald,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
Flash Fearless,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Foxx,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nik Kershaw,
Toni Rubio,
The Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Donny Hathaway,
The Standells,
Pulsallama,
Animal Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.